


Neighborly Love

by insertfandomname



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Off-screen action, Post Season 3, Slow Romance, implied panic attacks, not season 4 compliant, other characters might appear but are not in the focus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 14,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1296700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insertfandomname/pseuds/insertfandomname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not the best neighborhood. By far not. But he likes it. Although it's kinda shady and possible dangerous. Good thing he's the proud owner of a gun. He could have a nicer apartment in a nicer neighborhood. Even with his poor excuse of a salary. The real estate prices fell a lot since the frequent murder sprees in the last couple of years. His realtor said it was because of the bad economy. Sure, let's go with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-read (feel free to volunteer).
> 
> Sadly there is a lack of Deputy Parrish/Derek Hale fics. Here is my contribution. Hopefully in future more fics pop up.
> 
> Post Season 3, let's just assume Derek and Parrish survive this season relatively unharmed.

It's not the best neighborhood. By far not. But he likes it. Although it's kinda shady and possible dangerous. Good thing he's the proud owner of a gun. He could have a nicer apartment in a nicer neighborhood. Even with his poor excuse of a salary. The real estate prices fell a lot since the frequent murder sprees in the last couple of years. His realtor said it was because of the bad economy. Sure, let's go with that.

There is no way he could have continued to live cramped up in the last one. That little house near the school whose walls were closing in on him at night. He needs the open space.

He's not going to admit it out loud – people would declare him insane – but he loves Beacon Hills. It's not exactly what his therapist suggested, but she can't blame him. It's not his fault Beacon Hills is the haven for all that is crazy. It was highly suggested that he takes a desk job in a small town. That's exactly what he did. It was supposed to be good for him. After all that happened. As expected it started kind of boring. Like he imagined and dreaded. Thankfully it turned around.

He likes the Sheriff, he really does, but he is not surprised the FBI was around. Not after he actually bothered to look into why Beacon Hills had all the job openings in the department. Every other person would have been freaked out. Serial killers, mysterious animal attacks and way too many open cases. Any other town and Stilinski wouldn't be around anymore. Hell, last year more than half of his department was murdered by a serial killer and a couple of months later the sheriff was abducted by another killer who later was found dead in the wood under mysterious circumstances. It's funny that there are still people left in Beacon Hills. Still, it should be statistically impossible for it to continue this way.

He was supposed to have some quiet time. A little desk work, handing out a couple of parking tickets. Normal, small town police work. What he's not supposed to do, is handle disappearing and reappearing teenagers, Yakuza bosses being murdered, bombs and all that other mysterious shit that keeps happening.  
Until he actually crossed paths with them, the sword-swinging ninjas that apparently stabbed Agent McCall were his favorite. The guy is a douche. Maybe he was just doing his work, but his coworkers are convinced there's a part of him that was messing with the Sheriff because he has the hots for McCall's ex-wife. That doesn't explain why he put in a good word for the Sheriff once the review came up, but let them speculate. He's not here to get involved in his superior's love life.

“Shit!” Why did he think he could handle the renovations on his own? He can dismantle a rifle and diffuse who knows how many types of exploding devices, but he's going to drown in his kitchen, because he can't fix a broken sink.

He empties the buckets of water down the toilet puts the biggest one back under the steady drip and decides that it's probably time to pay a visit to his sketchy neighbors. Maybe the drug dealer down the hall owns a tool box.

Are people in small towns not supposed to be nice to their neighbors? He wasn't waiting for cupcake baskets but they could open the door when someone knocks asking for help. He wouldn't even mention the distinct smell of weed that comes out of some of the apartments.

The last stop is the neighbor upstairs, before he has to check if he can go for a swim in his kitchen yet. If nothing helps, Dorian gets his own room. He deserves a better aquarium for not dying on him yet. That fish is tougher than some people he knows.

Mentally he's already thinking if he can afford to call a plumber if he manages to tile the bathroom on his own. There has to be a YouTube tutorial for that kind of thing, right? When the unexpected happens. The door opens.

“Oh, hello.”

He should be more surprised that he moved into the same building as Beacon Hills' resident murder suspect.

“Are you here to arrest me?”

How sad is it that that's his first conclusion to seeing a police officer at his door? At least he thinks that Hale really meant the question. Who knows with him. Everything the guy says sounds sarcastic.

“I wanted to ask if I can borrow a screwdriver or something.”

The furrow of his brows probably means he wants him to elaborate. “I just moved in and kinda broke my sink.”

“And a screwdriver is gonna fix it?”

Hopefully. “Yeah?”

Without another word, but a raised eyebrow Hale turns around. He's just going to take the open door as a sign that he's supposed to wait. He's not as presumptuous as to take it as an invitation to go inside. But he does lean a little forward to look inside. The loft looks normal enough. As normal as any of the apartments in this building can look.

“Here.”

It's weird to think that someone with a hole in the wall actually owns a toolbox. Maybe he likes having a hole in the wall. Who is he to judge? The only thing in his apartment that is not a mess is his closet.

“Thank you.” Not that he actually knows what to do with them, now that he has the tools.

He didn't realize that he stood there long enough staring at the box in his hand for Hale to start questioning his presence. “Is that all?”

“I have no idea how to use this stuff.”

“So you came asking for it, because...?”

“Yeah, I don't know. Sorry. I'll just call a plumber. It's what I should've done in the first place. Sorry again.” He pushes the box towards Hale and hurries back down the hallway and downstairs.

Half an hour of watching Dorian swim around and he has his breathing and erratic heartbeat back under control. He was kinda fine until the bomb in the station. After that they came back. They don't come as often as in the beginning but the littlest things still set them off. Luckily this time it wasn't as bad for him to call the doc.

Still trying to maneuver the overflowing bucket without spilling all of the water, he startles when he hears a knocking.

“It's Sunday,” Hale says without a greeting and like it explains why he's standing at his door.

“Okay...” His answer earns him an eye-roll.

“You won't get a plumber today. I can have a look at it.” The lack of eye-contact doesn't bother him to much. He would go as far as to say that Hale looks nervous.

“Sure. If it isn't too much trouble.” He steps aside to let him in.

This is not how he imagined to have his first guest over. Once his bed doesn't consist of a mattress in the middle of the room anymore. And he put up some pictures so it looks less like a serial killers lair and more like a home. Maybe some flowers. Some that don't need much care.

Self-conscious he starts kicking some blankets over the unpacked boxes. “Sorry for the mess.”

“I lived worse,” he mutters loud enough to be heard and disappears in direction of the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

He can add another point to the list of lies his realtor told him about the building.  
 _It's a calm neighborhood. The worst you will hear is a video game at full volume._  
There is no way this is a video game. It rather sounds like a full-on fight coming from Derek's floor.

Any other job and he could just ignore it. He wouldn't feel responsible to see what the ruckus is about.

Who is he trying to kid? Even if it wasn't his job, he would see what is happening upstairs. Ever since Derek – it didn't take long to get to a first name basis – saved him from explaining to his insurance a water damage after living in the building for two days, they have some kind of friendship going on. Instead of wandering around in his, finally furnished, apartment when he can't sleep, he goes to see if Derek is up for a drink. He never met someone with a sleep schedule as fucked-up as his. The couple of times there was no answer to his knocking, he heard him stumble in at the crack of dawn. He doesn't get an explanation for what Derek is doing all night out and doesn't ask for one. He knows he should. Especially since he doesn't look like he had a good time after such a night. The only reason he doesn't satisfy his curiosity is because he doesn't want to strain their new friendship. If there is one thing he knows about Derek, it is that he is a very private person.

The closer he gets to the apartment, the better he hears what is causing the noise. He hears yelling and something that sounds like heavy things being thrown around. It would be better to call for back-up. If the situation is as bad as it sounds, he won't be able to handle it on his own.

The hand on his holster and trying to get his heartbeat to calm down, he puts his other hand on the door latch, when the noise inexplicably stops.

Well, he can't just storm in now, can he? Suddenly he worries that he overreacted. How paranoid is he going to look if he burst into another guys apartment with his gun drawn, because of some yelling and bangs. He did not jump to his feet when he heard the teenager yell at _I'm-not-selling-fake-IDs_ -guy downstairs. As long as the IDs are bad, there is no need to interfere. Let the kids have fun with an ID until they actually try to use it. Being disappointed is part of growing up after all.

“Derek?” Knocking first doesn't make him look like he jumped to conclusions. “You there?”

It isn't Derek who opens the door. The guy is older and somehow familiar. “Hello there.” The smile the guy sends him, doesn't make the situation less suspicious.

As far as he can see Derek isn't in there. However a couple of teenager are, including the Sheriff's kid and the girl that appeared after living in the woods for a couple of years. At least the guy at the door isn't the only adult here. But is it really better to have the vet and Argent around? He's not sure. Especially since he isn't sure if Argent is a Jedi or a Sith. He leans towards Sith. That guy is sketchy. Just as this situation.

“How can I help you, handsome?”

“I'm looking for Derek.” In the background he sees the Stilinski kid trying to hide behind a small redhead.

The guy starts looking him up and down. Grinning he drawls, “Isn't it boring. Arresting him every time something happens just to let him go a while after with an apology.”

“I'm not here to arrest him, but I might take you in for disorderly conduct.” He doesn't even know where to start? Looking around he has no idea who could have been attacking who. “It sounded like there was some kind of struggle. Is anyone hurt?” Besides the broken chair in the middle of the room.

“Everything's fine.” Suddenly Stilinski leaves his hiding place to jump forward. “We were just fighting about the movie we're gonna watch. It's movie night. We do it every week. It just took us longer as usual to decide. Today everyone had an opinion. You know how it is.”

He doesn't need to take in the reactions of the others to know that's a lie. “Movie night?”

After a moment everyone joins in the kids enthusiastic nodding. Some more reluctant than others. The guy at the door is still smirking at him.

“But now everything's cool. We reached a decision.”

Let's see how long he can continue the lie. “So, what will you watch?”

“Lord of the Rings.”

“Which one?”

“We start the first one and see how long we can go.”

“Extended edition?”

“Of course.”

“Don't you have school tomorrow?”

“With the exception of few,” he actually gestures to the adults, “we're young. We can survive an all-nighter.”

“Does your father know?”

“I was just about to call him.”

No wonder the Sheriff has such a high tolerance level for bullshit. Living with that kid must be a burden.

“And you are watching it here?”

“Yeah. Derek invited us. So generous of him. And he has the best sound-system. It being so open and all.”

“That's nice of him. And interesting, because last time I was here, he didn't own a sound-system. Now that I think of it I don't think he even has a TV.”

“You know Derek?”

“Do _you_ know Derek?” With a gesture to Argent he adds, “Besides being arrested with him, of course.”

“Of course. We're friends!”

He's just going to ignore the _Speak for yourself!_ look on some of the faces for now.

“Totally good friends,” Stiles insists.

Right. “I don't know what's going on here, but I'll be downstairs. Where I live. If I hear more noise I'll call for back-up and you can pull your all-nighter at the police station. And if Derek's not back in half an hour, I'm going to find out how exactly you came in here without him. I doubt any of you have a key.”

With that he turns around and goes downstairs. Let them think he's going to wait before he acts. First thing he does is fishing out his phone and sending a text to Derek.

**Do you know there is a bunch of people in your apt?**

While he is getting out of his work clothes his phone rings.

“Hey, I'm assuming you didn't know?”

He can actually feel the tension coming through the phone.

“What kind of people?”

“Well, I don't know all of them. The Sheriff's kid, Argent and the vet I recognized. Oh and a guy with a constant smirk on his face opened the door. Not really trustworthy unless he's a friend of yours.”

“That would be my uncle. Don't worry, I hate him too.”

He's just going to not dig into that information. He recognizes issues in other people. Probably because he has enough on his own, he knows that most people don't want to talk about them. He certainly doesn't want to talk about his.

“Well, I thought they were fighting. But when I got there everything seemed kinda fine. What are they doing up there?”

“I don't know,” Derek sighs. “I told them to stay away and have their little meet-ups far away from there. Sorry for the noise. I tell them to go.”

“It wasn't the noise.” Not exclusively. “I was worried.”

Just because they don't talk about their issues, doesn't mean that he doesn't know about Derek's. The Beacon Hills gossip about Derek's supposedly blooming relationship with one of the killers in the last years reached even his ears. And then there is the fact that most of his family died when he was a teenager.

The silence coming from the other side is really unnerving. “I mean, it sounded really bad.”

“I'm fine.”

“Are you coming home soon?” Oh god. It sounded better in his head. “I mean, if you're coming back soon, you can tell me how they ended up in your loft trying to convince me you have weekly movie nights with them.”

A moment he thinks Derek hang up on him. “Okay.” It doesn't take much to imagine the furrow of Derek's brows.

“I can cook something.” He just invited his extremely hot neighbor and only kinda friend on this town for dinner. A dinner that he is going to cook for him. Congratulations, he just made his future in Beacon Hills way more awkward than necessary.

“I wouldn't call what you do in your kitchen cooking.”

“Hey! I'm a great cook.” Oh, shut up. Now doesn't just have to cook something, he has to cook something good.

Is Derek actually laughing at him?

“I've seen your kitchen. And your fridge. But let's see what you can do. I'll bring dessert.”

With that Derek hangs up and leaves him standing in his apartment wondering if he has time to order food and putting it on some plates before Derek arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After last episode it seems that next season we are going to learn a little more about our dear Deputy. Hopefully this foreshadowing actually leads somewhere.
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed the chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

God knows what happened. He stopped that guy with the broken backlight and next thing he knows he's lying in a hospital bed. After feeling the tremendous pain in his abdomen, of course. If the pain he's feeling right now – despite the meds – is any indication he's glad he blacked out.

It's saying a lot for the entertainment program of the hospital if he's happy to see that mean nurse. He just asked if he could have a different dessert not for a three-course meal. He's bored out of his mind. Even the short visit of his coworkers was more business than a courtesy call.

He's debating if he should feign sleep for the next round of doctors in training that want to probe his bullet wound or take their clumsy hands for a little human contact, when he hears a knock on the door.

“What are you doing here?” Not that he's not glad to see Derek. Finally a happy face that doesn't belong to the hospital staff or just wants to take his statement.

“I heard you got injured.” Not that Derek is actually looking happy. “What happened?”

“Well, I got shot?”

“By who?” Slowly he takes the chair by the door and settles by his side.

“Why? Are you gong to track them down?”

He meant it as a joke the steady gaze Derek sends him doesn't seem like he sees it as such.

“Are you crazy?” He tries to get up but the pain doesn't let him go far. With a wince and Derek's hand pushing him back he settles back into the pillows. “You are doing no such thing, stupid.”

“Stupid? I'm not the one getting shot.”

“That's my job. Promise me you will not go out looking for the guy.”

The lack of an answer is troubling. He just hopes the scowl is a confirmation he's not going out looking for trouble. Suddenly it makes sense why Derek is in constant trouble with the law. If he had to guess he would say that he walks the line between criminal and vigilante. A mask and a secret identity and he could pass as Beacon Hills superhero. He already has the sad backstory and the broody personality. Not to forget the hot body.

“Can you feed Dorian while I'm here?” Hopefully that is enough of a task for him to not go.

“Your fish?”

“I would be very sad if I got home to find him practicing his backstroke. Fishes are very delicate animals.”

“You know that you told me about losing his aquarium in the mess of your first apartment. And when you accidentally found him a week later he was still as happy as a fish can be.”

“But he still felt my presence in the room. Even if he couldn't see me from inside the cupboard.”

He's just going to blame the meds for the fact that Derek doesn't believe him. A little less drowsy and Derek wouldn't be raising his eyebrow in a disbelieving manner. For good measure he tries to look as innocent as possible.

“Don't worry, your fish won't die on my watch,” he finally gives in. “How's the pain?”

“Great. Constant and increasing until my next fix.”

Without a warning Derek takes his hand. He's so surprised that at first he doesn't realize the pain is decreasing. Slowly he takes his eyes from Derek's face to their hands.

“Is that some kind of pressure point therapy?”

“Something like that.”

He's wondering a lot of things at once.  
Where did Derek learn this glorious technique? (He's feeling so much better all of the sudden. Even the drowsiness induced by the drugs is getting less.)  
Is the hand-holding going to cause awkwardness once he's not confined to an hospital bed?  
Is it possible that he was not as subtle as he thought and this is Derek's way to show that he's also interested?

He doesn't know the answers to most of the questions in his head. However the one thing he knows is that this is the most awkward hospital visit he ever had. And he's including the time he got broken up with the moment he woke from the anesthesia.

He's not sure if the awkward tension in the room lowers or increases once the Sheriff comes in after a short knock. His boss just looks at the both of them and just raises an eyebrow.

“I see you're feeling better already.” The Sheriff puts the box of chocolates and the Get Well! card – with what suspiciously looks like a bear with a band-aid on his tummy – on the table but stays standing. “The others said you were whining the whole time they were here.

“You can tell them sorry from me. But I _was_ hurting from having a hole in my stomach.”

He laughs at that. “Meli... Nurse McCall said it isn't that bad. Mostly a flesh wound.”

Doesn't make it hurt any less. Before he got a hold of Derek Hale's wonder hands.

“I didn't know you two knew each other,” he says with a pointed look to their interwined hands.

His explanation that they are neighbors goes under in with Derek saying that they are friends. Of course he always thought of Derek as his friend, but actually hearing it from him is kinda different.

The Sheriff clears his throat and starts leaving smiling. “Great. I just leave you two to it. We still have to catch your shooter after all. I expect you on your feet in no time, Parrish.”

Despite just being shot and all the other shit that happens in the town it's the first time he actually feels safe. The police department is not the best but the people are. It's a good change from his last one. And he has found a friend with minimal effort. Someone that comes to visit him in the hospital, takes his pain away and agrees to take care of his indestructible, possible immortal, fish.

“So, we are friends?”

“I don't know about you, but I don't let just anybody wake me up in the middle of the night.” With a frown Derek adds, “If it isn't an emergency.”

Good.

“About those people who shot you...”

“No! There is a police department looking for them. You just stay here or go home and do whatever you do when I'm not there to force my friendship on you.”

“You didn't force me into anything.”

“Good.”


	4. Chapter 4

“You're not serious, are you?”

“Of course I am. And by playing my _Recently I got shot_ -card I win this argument.”

This time it isn't that bad. Who would have thought that being on medical leave isn't an excruciating boring matter when there is someone taking care of you. Derek isn't the most gentle person and most of the times he seems frustrated that he's not fully recovered yet. But he does come over and brings him food and on good days like today even the pastries he likes from the other side of town.

One time he tried to insist that he doesn't have to come over all the time. The reply he got in return implied more than what was actually said. “No one should be alone when they are sick or injured.” The underlying statement that this happened to Derek before, was not addressed further.

“You're still wrong,” Derek states breaking the last pastry in half.

“Ey! I played the sick card.” His indignation probably doesn't come over as strong since he's reaching for the half that is offered to him.

“You did, unfortunately it isn't that powerful to make your opinion the right one.”

“Not fair.”

“Life's not fair.”

“What about a compromise? Both finales were great and deserve a place in the Top three of best series finales of all time.”

A moment it looks like Derek won't budge. Finally with a exaggerated sigh he reaches for the outstretched hand. “Fine.”

They settle back into the couch to continue to watch the show that caused the argument in the first place. Until now he successfully ignored the stretch of the bandage for the sake of defending his favorite show.

“I'm really glad you're here.”

“It's not like I had a long way to get here.” He doesn't understand why Derek continues to look embarrassed every time he brings it up. It's the only way he can express his gratitude until he manages to walk around more than half an hour to actually buy or arrange an actual present for spending time with him. And he really deserves a gift. He considers himself a lot of things, but an easily pleased sick person is not one of those things.

“And someone has to take care of your fish.”

“Now I understand. He charmed you. How could you, Dorian?” The accusing finger in direction of the aquarium loses his impact when he realizes that it isn't there. “Wait, were is he?”

If it were any other animal he wouldn't be surprised if it ran away from him. On second thought he could believe Dorian taking a dive in the toilet to leave the poor excuse of a care he provides him with.

While he is freaking out about the loss of the only living creature that survived more than five months living with him, Derek is laughing. Turning to look at him it is obvious that he is laughing at him.

“Did you steal my fish?”

“Did it took you three days to realize he wasn't at his usual place and me mentioning it in the first place?”

Point taken. “I'm the worst.”

The fish was supposed to soothe him. Every time he feels like he might be slipping he's supposed to watch him swim. At the time it seemed like a better idea than buying a puppy. Unfortunately it adds to his stress levels that he keeps loosing and/or forgetting about his pet. At least a dog would make itself noticeable when it's hungry. But then he would probably forget him in the dog park.

“I just moved it to the other room,” at last he stopped laughing. “In the morning the sun was shining directly on him. I just assumed it isn't good for him to swim in hot boiling water.”

It should be more surprising that he almost kills his fish by placing its home in an inconvenient place.

“And I bought food that is more suitable for him.”

“How do you know so much about fish?”

“Knowing what to feed him is not advanced pet care knowledge.” He knows a condescending tone when he hears one. Even if there is some amusement mixed in. “My sister had a one. Well, several. I don't think one fish can survive as long at that one did. And in the beginning she was as bad at taking care of it as you are.”

Derek doesn't talk a lot about his family. However the little tidbits he sometimes throws into conversations paint the picture of a loving and caring family. What makes it even more difficult to believe why someone would decide to brutally murder them. Or how Derek can stand to be in the room with the brother of the woman who was responsible for that heinous act.

“You know that this means you have to share you wisdom with me, right?”

The little voice on the back of his head is laughing at him. Using his poor, innocent pet as a way to spend even more time with his neighbor. Next he's going to run upstairs in search of a cup of sugar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter.
> 
> I'm still deciding if I want to leave canon before the finale or someway include the cliffhanger. Even if it's just a sentence or two. Sadly, I wasn't a big fan of the finale.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr: [insertfandomname](http://insertfandomname.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

He's allowed back at work unless he doesn't get to worked up. Since nothing exciting happened since he got shot, it didn't seem like a problem. Of course nobody thought about the stress levels that are caused by teenagers. If they are trying to be sneaky they are failing terribly. He doesn't know what they might be looking for, but if it is about him, they really should keep their voices down.

“Do you sense anything?”

“Shh, he might hear you.”

“He won't! Unless he has superhearing. Do you think he has superhearing?”

Nobody needs enhanced hearing to hear them talking outside the open door. They are five feet away from him and the station isn't that big. Everybody can hear what's been talked about in the next room when the door is open and it is as silent as it is now.

“Does he smell evil?”

What? Now it is getting ridiculous.

“Stiles! Shut up!”

“But does he?”

Okay, enough. He turns his chair towards the door and sees Stiles and Agent McCall's son disappearing behind the wall. “Do you want to see the Sheriff?”

Sheepishly they come forward. With them is a girl. If he's not mistaken, she's the one that was kidnapped by Barrow.

“Oh, hi! How's it going?” Stiles doesn't even have the decency to show the same embarrassment as his friends. “Didn't see you there.”

Right. “He's in his office. Go right through.”

He tries to continue working. But it is deskwork and even from his position the wild gesturing from both the Sheriff and his son are kind of distracting. After half an hour all four of them emerge from the room. Quickly he goes back to stare at his files. God, he's bored.

“Parrish. Saturday there's a barbeque at my house. You're expected to come.”

And he's supposed to believe that all this fuss was about a party? There is something fishy about this situation. It's too much of a coincidence. Stiles and his friends to show up and suddenly he is invited to a party at the Sheriff's house. And then there's the fact that he kids were sneaking around outside the office. Trying to smell him? God knows, what they would come up with once they have him in an unfamiliar setting.

The best would be coming up with an excuse. Something other than work. Anything. Come on, think.

“Okay?” Good work, idiot.

Maybe it's better this way. He accepts and declines later when he came up with something better than _I don't want to_!

“Great, back to work.” He turns to the teenagers. “And you go back to whatever you do when you're not distracting me at work.”

Although he did his best to come up with a believable excuse during the week, he finds himself at the Sheriff's house on Saturday with a salad bowl clutched in his hands. He even thought that about asking if Derek might be want to go with him. It wasn't even that far-fetched to assume that he might already be invited. Obviously the Sheriff knows him good enough to ask for his help when his son was disappearing all over town.

The day he wanted to ask if he could count on Derek being at a party where he probably only knows his boss, was the day Derek left in the car with a woman. The bag he had thrown over his shoulder and the casual wave on seeing him was enough to show that he was leaving of his own free will. Since he left on Wednesday and still wasn't back indicates a vacation. With his possible girlfriend. Of course someone like Derek has people lining up to date him. It was stupid to assume otherwise. While daydreaming about the possibility to develop their friendship into something different, he never actually bothered to find out if Derek was seeing someone.

The time he was waiting for someone to open the door was enough for a couple of other people to join him. He's not sure which one is looking more cross. Agent McCall who is carrying what looks like food for the whole town. The son who refuses to look in the direction of his father. Or Nurse McCall who is stuck between them.

After a couple of pleasantries the Sheriff finally bothers to open the door. The little McCall, Scott if he remembers correctly, instantly flees inside the house. Meanwhile he is still standing on the porch, stuck in between the love triangle Beacon Hills is most invested in.


	6. Chapter 6

“Do you know why we were invited?”

“No idea.” They already had this conversation over the last few days. “Probably just so the Sheriff can welcome us directly in Beacon Hills.”

“I don't know. There's something else.”

He's sitting with two of the newer officers. The ones that came into town after the ninja attack at the station and the hospital.

“I agree.” Haigh frowns looking at him. “You've already been around for a while. Why only invite you now?”

As much as it hurts him he has to agree. The newest addition to the department is not the nicest guy, but his instincts are stellar. Between all the stuff that happened, there was plenty of time to have a get-together. Or at least after everything calmed down. The time when the Sheriff's kid went on vacation with his friends would have been the perfect time for him to invite his coworkers.

Looking around he doesn't know who is behaving more suspicious. The veterinarian who keeps sending him curious glances while standing around the grill with the Sheriff. Argent whom he overheard telling something about weird things happening when he was visiting his extended family in France. Or Stiles, who keeps pushing Scott towards him. All this is accompanied by McCall's confused looks and the Sheriff's exasperated sighs.

The only way to stand this is eating Burger's and ignoring the people around him until he can leave without looking impolite. Half an hour tops.

Finally Scott seems to relent to Stiles. The boys and what he assumes are the respective girlfriends sit down at the table.

“Tell us, what brought you guys to Beacon Hills?”

They take a moment to look at each other. “The job.” 

“Yeah, sure. But why Beacon Hills?”

“There was a job opening and we took it.” Bless Sally and her patience. He's going to take over her paper work for two weeks if she just manages to get them out of this interrogation.

“No other reasons? Family history in Beacon Hills? A revenge plot? Supernatural forces calling you here?”

“Stiles!” Scott exclaims shocked before starting to laugh. It doesn't take someone with police training to know that it is a false laugh. Not even the girls joining it make the action more believable.

Sally throws him a questioning glance, while Haigh scowls at the teenagers.

He wonders what exactly Stiles was expecting as an answer.

“Stop bothering my deputies, Stiles.” Suddenly the Sheriff is standing at their side dumping a burger on each of their plates. “You can send them away if the kids are annoying you. I know the feeling.”

“No, it's okay.” Haigh says without taking the eyes of the teenagers. “You son was just asking us if witches brought us into town.”

“Was he now?” That's the resigned tone of someone who had way too many similar conversations with said son.

“I never said witches. How did you come up with witches? Did witches bring you to town?”

He can't shake the feeling that he's missing at least half of the conversation. With what he hopes is a subtle move he checks his phone. Another ten minutes and he'll come up with an excuse to leave.

Stiles and Haigh are staring each other down, Sally looks as confused as he feels and the Sheriff stands back awkwardly holding a plate with burgers.

“Look,” the Tate girl jumps up startling them. “Braeden's back!”

It's the woman Derek left with on Wednesday. And there he has his confirmation that people in a small town all know each other.

“Let's see what she found out.” With that Stiles is dragged away from the table by his girlfriend.

Eight minutes to go. Eight excruciating minutes if this whole afternoon is anything to go by.

Scott and his girlfriend leave reluctantly when they are called over. With the excuse of checking the grill and holding off the veterinarian of putting more vegetables on it, the Sheriff walks away.

“That kid and his friends are weird.”

No doubt about that. “Don't be too hard on them. I think that's their way of dealing with the stuff that happened a while back.”

Why is he making excuses for them? They are weird. It's the last two sleepless nights catching up to him. He just wants to go home. Two minutes.

“What exactly happened there?”

“Didn't you read the files?”

“Of course.” Sally rolls her eyes at him. “But is it really true there were samurai stabbing people all over town and then suddenly they disappeared without a trace?”

“Sounds about right.”

“The FBI was here and didn't investigate that further?”

Times up. He's going. He gets up and wraps the burger the Sheriff dumped on his plate in a bun. There is no excuse for wasting food. Even if the meat is too dry.

“That's a great question to ask Agent McCall.” Agent McCall who seems to be in a heated argument with his ex-wife. “I'm sure he would like to talk about the failure that is his career.”

With a short goodbye he turns to leave. Before the conversation turns from the attack at the station to more traumatic events of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all that commented and left kodus and suscribed. Feel kinda bad that it took a while to update and then just to get such a short chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

Five days after the weirdest barbecue he ever attended – not counting Aunt May's 60th birthday of course – the teenagers concentrated their efforts solely on Haigh. He's glad they lost interest in him. And Haighs annoyed expression during the day is an added bonus. His fault to indulge Stiles and his conspiracy theories.

The way they still find excuses to show up at the station is a sign of utter dedication. He would be worried that they are taking their obsession a little too far, but the Sheriff seems fine it. And who is he to destroy their fun. Maybe two more days. Then he'll try to put a stop to it. Before Haigh loses it completely and does something stupid. Like pulling a gun on them.

“How was the barbecue?”

That's the price for letting his guard down.

“Would you please not sneak up on me like that?” He get's startled on the parking lot of his building. “God, way to give me an heart attack.”

“Sorry,” Derek responds not looking sorry at all.

They haven't seen each other since he saw Derek get into that car. Although he knew that he was back since Saturday he managed to not go upstairs. He doesn't want to seem clingy. Especially that there is a possible girlfriend in Derek's life.

“You wanna come over? I have food.” That's when he notices the bags of take-out in his hands. It's from that place with the great food that refuses to deliver into their neighborhood. Something about not wanting to risk the life of their delivery boys. Which is stupid. Despite all the murders with random victims, there hasn't been any attack on delivery boys. At least the killers had the decency to let people get there food on time. 

“Sure!” He fails miserably to sound like it's no big deal. “Let me just change out of the uniform.”

Twenty minutes later they are sitting on Derek's amazing couch. There is a radio playing somewhere. That's new. At least there isn't a TV around. He might have fainted from the shock.

It's then that he remembers the question Derek asked downstairs. “Was your trip just a way to avoid the Sheriff's barbecue? Not that I blame you.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Not exactly bad, but really weird. I felt like I was under constant watch. Oh and Stiles watched an episode of Supernatural too many if you ask me. He seems convinced that something evil called me and the other deputies here.”

“Kids these days,” Derek deadpans.

He nearly chokes on his next bite. “How old are you, grandpa?”

“Don't worry about them.” Laughing Derek pats him on the back. “In a couple of days they forget about it.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. They already leave me alone, but I'm worried that my colleague might jump Stiles the next time he mentions something mythological.”

Now there is a thoughtful expression on Derek's face. Whatever caused this expression it can wait. He let himself get distracted from his actual question. “I hope your vacation was worth it. I could have needed support.”

“It was definitely not a vacation.”

“You and your girlfriend didn't have a fight, did you?” He takes a big gulp from the glass to hide his face. There was probably a better way to broach the subject. At least one more subtle.

“Where do you get your information?” He can practically feel the eye roll. “She's definitely not my girlfriend. She just needed help with... a minor vermin problem which turned out to be a massive one.”

“That's nice of you to help her.”

“It's not like she gave me a choice. She turned up and suddenly I was getting into her car, because apparently I still owe her.”

There is something else implied. That's for sure. But the tone also indicates that Derek doesn't want to talk about it. “So I don't have to feel bad about hogging your time?”

“Trust me. If I wanted to get rid of you, you'll know.”

“Cool, cause I'd be devastated. I wouldn't even know where to find other friends. There is a distinctive lack of people our age in this town.”

“Where is Peter?” Derek doesn't even blink when Stiles' girlfriend and the little redhead storm in. It's like the universe wants to show him that he's right. This town consists solely of middle-aged adults and teenagers. Teenagers that have no problem to enter someones home without at least knocking first.

“Don't know, don't care!”

“Well, we need his help.”

He frowns. The girls look really distressed and Derek just shrugs. In an instant he's back into police mode. “What is the problem? Maybe I can help.”

“No!” Turning to the girls he adds, “Let me out of it.”

After a furious glare they disappear as quickly as they came.

“What was that about?”

“Just me living a normal life for once and they trying to pull me back into trouble.”

“Are you telling me that those two girls are a bad influence.”

A long sigh. “You have no idea.”


	8. Chapter 8

There is no way he's imagining this. That guy in front of him just grew a fair amount of facial hair and fangs.

The first day he was allowed to leave his desk again was uneventful. More than once he wondered if he managed to leave Beacon Hills without realizing. He never had such a boring shift since moving here. It is only after his shift has ended that he recognizes the town again. He was putting some groceries in his car when he sees a man casually walking out of the gas station. So casual that nobody would suspect him of shooting a deputy a few weeks back.

Suddenly he is following the man until he finds himself face to face with... whatever the thing is the guy turned into.

Shit!

If that's possible it's also possible that he did not imagine the ninjas last year. He's not sure if he should be relieved that he's not hallucinating or worried that there are things that can materialize out of thin air. At least there is one mental problem that he can dismiss. Unless he's worse than thought and he's imagining the guys new haircut.

Whatever it is, he most definitely has something to talk about at his next therapy session. If he ever decides to go back to one. And if he survives this, of course.

He's rattling down the usual police monologue when confronted in an hostile situation. Not that it seems to help much if he's interpreting the growling right. Growling? Seriously? At least he has an idea what it is that is going to attack him in an instant. Either it is a government experiment gone wrong or he's going to be killed by a werewolf.

The moment the guy jumps forward he feels himself being pulled back.

And here he thought it couldn't get weirder. Realizing that the guy that shot him is still in town and on top of that a possible mythical creature managed to climb to first place of his list of **Crazy shit that happened to me**. Only to be replaced a minute later by what he's witnessing in front of him.

Apparently he stumbled into a bad horror movie. He watches enough of bad TV to recognize the signs. Stiles, who is clutching a baseball bat, is obviously the human of the group. Possible sidekick to the teenager that found out he is something special? McCall is the one showing the obvious signs of lycanthropy (until proven otherwise he's sticking with the idea of werewolves).

The fight is over before he can deduce what roles the two girls play. A lot of growling and acrobatics later and the guy that shot him disappears over the wall. Great.

Still holding the bat like the guy might jump back into the alley Stiles turns to him. “You okay?”

Is he serious? Is he fucking serious? He's not fucking okay. Not only are there constant killer sprees in this town. Now it seems that mythical creatures are a part of it. The animal attacks are not that random anymore, are they? These teenager are keeping important information to themselves. Information that could save lives. God, all those cold cases might be solved if the department knew about this. Fuck it, the Sheriff probably does know. He is so far from fucking okay. Fuck this town!

“Yeah, sure.”

Taking a deep breath he gets up from where they dumped him to roleplay the Scooby Gang and turns to leave. “Thanks for the help.”

It's McCall that catches up to him first. “You're just leaving?”

“As you see.”

“Don't you have questions?”

“Not really.”

“You saw what just happened back there and you don't have any questions?”

Oh, he has a lot of questions. He just doesn't want to ask them right now. What he has to do now, is think. After the freak-out he is definitely going to have later. “No. No questions.”

The four teenagers standing behind him don't help to calm his shaking hands. At least he manages to open the car without dropping the keys. Get a grip! It was probably the weirdest situation he ever found himself in, but not the worst. A little fight between fantasy monsters has nothing on stuff he saw and experienced in the past.

“You really okay to drive?” He just doesn't snap at McCall for not letting him close the door, because the worried look seems genuine.

Counting to ten while searching for the right words that don't make him sound like an ungrateful dick, his eyes fall on the small group behind McCall. The two girls on either side of Stiles. The exact same girls that he saw storm into an apartment. He thought Derek was joking when he called them a bad influence. Now it doesn't sound as far-fetched. They were just involved in a fight.

“I do have one question. Is Derek involved in all this?”

The glances they exchange are answer enough.


	9. Chapter 9

He doesn't know how long he's sitting in his car. He keeps rewinding everything that happened and trying to make sense of it. What he really wants to do is leave Beacon Hills. 

A town that has monsters running around freely cannot be the foundation for the calm and save environment he needs. He doesn't want boring, but he knows that he needs it. As much as it hurts admitting it. Living in this town can't be good for him. Especially not when he doesn't know how many different creatures are lurking in the night. The bombs in the army and police work are predictable in some way, even the serial killers. There is always a pattern. But things that shouldn't be real are unpredictable. And most certainly dangerous.

The five missed calls from the Sheriff confirm his suspicion that he knows. Stiles probably called him to inform him that one of his Deputies found out about Beacon Hills fantastical side and is most definitely freaking out. Are they going to put him down now that he found out their secret? He might be able to make some silver bullets with the right tools. If he just remembered where he put the box with his mom's silverware.

The knock on his window startles him out of his plans for... let's go with self-defense.

“We have to talk.”

Why exactly did he come home after getting the non-verbal confirmation that Derek is in someway involved in it?

He opens the window an inch. “Are you here to make sure I don't talk or are you finishing me off directly when I get out of the car?”

Derek's confused frown was one of his favorite expressions. Directly after him laughing. Now he doesn't even know how to feel about seeing him.

“Come on, let's go inside. So we can talk.”

Yeah, he's not getting out of the car until he's sure he's not going to get killed. “I quite like it here. Great night to talk about the secret society of supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills. Tell me, is there a club where they all meet and have a good laugh about the humans that live in constant danger without knowing. I feel like every human that has the bad luck of living in a mystery series. I'm the collateral damage when there is another unnecessary fight in the Vampire Diaries.”

“I don't watch that show.”

“So not the point, Derek!”

“Well, what is the point?”

“You are a …” With a gesture he tells Derek to fill the blank.

“Werewolf.”

Ha! He knew it! His deductions are on point. Only after seeing physical proof, but still.

“Do you see the problem? You are a werewolf. I've been hanging out with a werewolf. God knows, how many of you are running around here besides you and McCall. I don't know what's true anymore. Were you really worried when I was lying in the hospital with a hole in my body or did you meet up later with your wolfbuddy to congratulate him on shooting the stupid human? By the way, tell him to fix his broken light if he hasn't done it already.”

“Wait, who shot you?”

“The guy McCall scared off earlier.”

“We don't know who that was, but we're going to deal with him. Don't worry.”

His laugh even sounds hysterical to his own ears.

“You're missing the point again. I don't want you or a bunch of teenager doing a job that I could do I if I just had all the necessary information.”

“It's safer if nobody knows about us.”

“How is it safer for people not knowing? Without the necessary information they can't defend themselves. From the things that shouldn't even exist. You guys are safe, since not a lot of people run around with silver bullets or... I don't know crucifixes.”

How dare he roll his eyes at him?

“Silver doesn't work and crucifixes are against vampires. That don't exist by the way. And it's not about the normal citizen, it's about people knowing and telling hunters.”

“Hunters?” Hunters? Suddenly the scene at the police station and Derek's glare after he mentioned the power of the taser make way more sense. It's more plausible than Derek being opposed to someone hunting rabbits or whatever runs around in the woods. “I thought Argent's kind of your friend?”

“Definitely not!”

“So, when he says he hunts, he means he hunts people like you?”

“Well... not anymore.”

Whatever. Not like he cares. So what, Argent hunts or hunted people like Derek. Some minutes ago he was planning to shoot his way out of Beacon Hills.

“Come on, let's go inside.”

Not that he could actually do it. Not only because of the useless silver. He can't imagine shooting Derek. Especially when he's looking at him like that. The last weeks of an easy friendship are difficult to erase just because Derek has a big secret. He also has secrets. Probably not as big and important but still. And he can understand the need to keep it a secret somehow. It seems that this whole werewolf business is not a government experiment, but it could be if the wrong people found out. He can practically see the quarantine the building is going to be put under and the following chase on flying bicycles.

“You're not going to eat me, right?”

“I gave up eating humans years ago. Too annoying.”

He stares up at Derek. “I don't know if you are joking.” It's not really the time for jokes, is it?

“Of course I am.” A moment they just look at each other. “If you want I can leave. I won't pressure you to go with me if it really bothers you.”

“I think I would like to stay here for a while.” He still has a lot to think about.

“Of course. When you're ready to talk, you know where to find me.”

“Yeah.” Right now he doesn't think he's ever going to be ready. Before he closes the window he adds, “I won't tell anyone.”


	10. Chapter 10

A week of intense research rose more questions than it actually answered.

After a mail to the Sheriff telling him that he's going to take his remaining vacation days, he bundled up on his couch with all the movies and series he could find with werewolves as a main plot. Although a lot of things are similar there are differences. Some can change whenever they want, others only on the night of a full moon. Some shift into a wolf, others only partially. Some are born like it, others are bitten.

He filled a notebook with questions. There is no way he watched all these B movies without getting at least some useful information out of it. Some of the myths must have their origin somewhere.

He just hopes that if Derek changes completely it isn't the Hemlock Grove shift. By now he thinks he can deal with the whole werewolf stuff. Unless there are eyeballs falling out.

With his notebook and a case of beer he finally leaves his cave of solitude. He feels a little bad about the silver fork he has in his pocket. He found it in the back of his closet – who knows where the rest of the set is – and thought it's better to be safe than sorry. If he had a Kryptonite he would also deny its effectiveness. Not that he believes he will have to use the fork. Nobody came to threaten him and the voice mail the Sheriff left him seemed genuine enough. _I know it's a lot to take in, son! Take your time._ If they wanted him dead he probably be dead already.

Midway up the stairs he almost turns around. Either Derek revisited his policy on letting people have their assemblies in his loft or they are back without his approval. Only because he disappeared into his apartment for a couple of days doesn't mean that his opinion on making a ruckus in his building changed. Last time he told them to keep it down and as far as he knows they didn't come back. But now he can basically hear Stiles frantic gesturing in response to the snarl of... was it Derek's uncle? well, the guy that opened the door last time.

They probably think they can go back to have their supernatural meetings in the building now that he knows about it. They are damn wrong if they think he's going to let pass the breach of peace. First and foremost he's a police officer.

Just like last time the noise stops abruptly when he comes to a stop at the door. Well, he can probably check high senses off his list. Either they heard him or what's way more disturbing they smelled him. A moment later the Sheriff opens the door and pulls him inside.

He is greeted with a chorus of hellos and questions about his well-being.

“Good.” Better if he wasn't in a room with a bunch of people who may of may not be dangerous. It doesn't help that Derek is nowhere to be seen.

“Glad you decided to join us.” The Sheriff is still holding on to his upper arm. “We were just planning on how to proceed.”

Yeah, he has no idea what his boss is talking about out. Whatever they think, he is not going to join their little vigilante group. Why is the majority teenagers by the way?

“Actually I just wanted to talk to Derek.”

“So you don't want to help?” The indignation coming from the little redhead is palpable.

He should find out the names of the people here. After he finds out what they need his help for. And how he managed to get involved in this without realizing.

“Fine.”

Since his first plan of sitting down with Derek and going through his list of questions is not going to work, he's just going to improvise. Playing along will hopefully get him the information he needs. If they think he knows everything they are less likely to keep secrets. This way is probably even more effective than getting the supervillain's monologue while being tied up in his secret lair.

Suddenly he is sitting between the uncle with the constant smirk on his face and the Tate girl, while Stiles jumps up to explain the new information they gathered in the last few days. From what he understands werewolves are not the thing he should have been worried about.  
Apparently the little group around him is preparing for a fight against a group of supernatural misfits that joined forces to take over Beacon Hills. No explanation why they would want to settle here. Not that he needs an excuse for a Buffy marathon, but if this town turns out to be located on a Hellmouth he can combine it with research. Derek's statement that vampires are not a thing seems far from reassuring now that he hears what other creatures are running around.

The longer he hears them talking, the worse he feels. The ringing in his ears drones out most of the end of plan they are explaining right now. A plan that sounded really risky with a lot of things that could go wrong right from the beginning. Confronting the hostile group in the place they have occupied for a couple of weeks is really stupid. This is a textbook example of running into a trap. At least lure them into a neutral place. What are the couple of adults doing here if they are not telling the kids that their plan sucks?

He has to get out of here. The voices of them arguing about some aspect of the plan are drowned out by his heart rate. The fact that he can barely breathe doesn't help to elevate the pain in his chest. He accidentally stumbled into another suicide mission. He can't go through with something like this again. How is he supposed to get out of this without insulting the supernatural beings in front of him? He tries to hide his trembling, but apparently fails. Suddenly everybody is looking at him. Which doesn't help at all.

“Oh boy. I think we broke him.”

“Shut up, Peter!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and reviews and all the silent readers. Every hit is appreciated. ;)
> 
> Who is excited for the interaction between Derek and our favorite Deputy next season? I expected more fics turning up after the photo was posted but I can wait patiently for more people to board this ship.


	11. Chapter 11

The one who was silent for most time of the meeting now takes the initiative. In no time the others are sent to stand further away. It's always better when there is nobody hovering over him. The calming words Nurse McCall keeps murmuring while stroking his back are only registered limited by him.

With the nurse by his side and the calming techniques he was forced to learn after _the incident_ he manages to bring his breathing back under control. This time the attack didn't last that long. At least there's that. The sympathetic looks he receives from the other people in the room are probably meant good, but he can't shake the feeling of anger. Involuntary he balls his clammy hands into fists. He doesn't need their pity. Before they can start asking stupid questions to accompany their glances he's going to leave. If he's lucky they won't even stop him and he can leave Beacon Hills before they realize his intention of leaving this freak show of a town.

The moment he gets up to start his retreat is the moment Derek decides to come join the strategic meeting. Of course.

Derek looks around but ends his observation with his eyes on him. “What's going on here?”

“Your boyfriend freaked out.”

“Peter, I swear to god.” The bite in Nurse McCall's voice contradicts they way she's been talking to him the last minutes.

“I did not,” he lies not even remotely convincing. “It was just a lot to take in.”

Climbing down the few steps from the door Derek's expression darkens. It's astonishing that the difference is even visible since Derek's neutral face is not one of sunshine and kittens.

“I told you to leave him alone.”

He's really glad the anger is not directed at him. Not that the teenagers or adults around him seem bothered by it.

“Dude, he came here and we just told him about the plan. He said he wanted to help.” No idea when Scott heard him said that. “And then he started panicking for no reason.”

That's it. He starts to laugh. In what world do this people live? He had a panic attack for no reason? Oh god, for them this is all normal. They probably fight a big bad every new school year. He wonders if they stopped an apocalypse yet?

“No reason? Finding out that Beacon Hills is crawling with multiple mythological and until a few days ago fictional beings is not normal in my world. I came upstairs and thought the only thing I needed to worry about was not being bitten a werewolf on the night of a full moon. If that's actually the way one gets turned. For all I know, it's a genetic thing.”

Why can't you keep your mouth shut for once? His inner voice sounds suspiciously like his Aunt May. He wanted to leave undetected not pulling the rooms attention back to himself.

It's the Sheriff who takes a few steps towards him. “Parrish.” The calming police voice is usually used to confront people that seem like a danger to themselves or other. The thought that his boss thinks that he might lash out on a group of werewolves or whatever the rest of them are makes him laugh even more.

“Derek talked to you, right? And explained to you the werewolf business and what went on the last years?”

“Explain is a rather strong word.” From the corner of his eye he sees Derek avoiding the furious looks of both the McCalls. “My research ended today, that's why I came here. To cross-reference.”

“I'm not even surprised. Are you surprised?” Stiles looks around but gets no answer. Turning to Derek he continues. “That's so typical of you. You said you talked to him.”

“I did! And then he wanted to be left alone.”

“And you let him?”

“Well, first time I tried to teach someone about werewolves who wasn't willing to listen did not turn out that great.”

“You were no help at all,” Scott exclaims indignant.

“You didn't listen.”

What are they? An old married couple? Unbelievable. Hopefully the enemy group has even more inner battles than this one. Otherwise he doesn't see many chances for this one to win. If he understood correctly the other consist completely of supernatural people. Here at least the Stilinskis are human. That's probably a disadvantage. He's already hating himself for the thought that they could use all the help they can get.

“Whatever!” He interrupts what is about to become a full-blown screaming match. Or a werewolf growling match? “Now that Derek's here I would like to go over my notes.”

“I can get my chess set.” That's a weird thing to say, but he doesn't even wonder anymore about Stiles and his train of thoughts.

“How about you play your chess game at your house. Derek and I can probably handle it from here.” He hopes the dismissal is clear enough. They don't seem to have a problem to invade another person's home, but he doesn't feel like kicking them out of Derek's apartment.

“Are you sure?” Nurse McCall wasn't that concerned about him when he was in the hospital with a bullet wound in his stomach.

Of what? Being alone with Derek? Getting even more involved in the supernatural world? Wanting them to leave?

“Positive.” With a terribly forced smile he gestures towards the beer. “Besides, I didn't bring drinks for everybody.”

For a group that plans on winning a strategic planned battle they take a lot of time to get organized to leave. The uncle, Peter, stops in the door and says something about taking care, pyromaniac and human sacrifices before being pushed out by Derek. He's not in the right mood to try to understand what he was implying by it. One thing at a time. First werewolves, then the other beings and if he survives and/or doesn't run away screaming he can bother to find out why they keep having Peter around if nobody seems to like him.

There they are. The werewolf and the human. And he thought people might talk about their friendship when they were the possible criminal and the deputy.

Derek doesn't seem to be eager to start the conversation.

“Wanna get drunk?”

“Alcohol has no effect on me.”

They are on a good way already. It's an answer to a question he didn't even have. One new information about werewolves down a million more to go.

“Great. More beer for me.”


	12. Chapter 12

Pacing through his apartment he regrets his refusal to join the pack in their mission to get rid of the other supernatural creatures. Just a little, but still. Now he has to wait for the news if it went like they planned.

It should have gone okay. Although he made it clear that he didn't want to be there, but that didn't stop him from arranging their plan. The attack and the possible retraction movement should have worked. It's straight from the army manual. Without less gun power but with more claws and a samurai sword.

They offered him to wait for them at the vet's office, but the only thing he can think about in Deaton's presence is that the guy is suspicious as hell. He knows way more than he let's on. And it's fucking irritating.

Weirdly not everyone has the same feelings about him. He tried to broach the subject during one of the planning sessions Deaton couldn't attend. He was away due to another business he had to attend. Not that he bothered to explain what's more important than a hostile takeover of the town they live in.

“Is it just me or is Deaton as sketchy as they come?”

“What? No!” Scott answered immediately and indignantly. “He's been helping us since the beginning.”

Derek's scoff from beside him stated differently. And at least Stiles shares his view. Not that he said so out loud. When he was leaving he pulled him aside and whispered. “I find him sketchy too. He was on my murder suspect list more than once.” How about telling his best friend about his views? Since Scott is the leader of them and all.

They should have called half an hour ago. Derek should have called. He promised to call when it's done. They should have been done by now. He wasn't in the army to half-ass a timeline for a plan. A solid plan they probably didn't stick to.

He's back on his way to check on Dorian. The little guy must be so confused about all the attention he's getting today. However it is better to watch his fish swim around than doing something stupid. Like going out and crashing the fight or going to visit Deaton and demand all the information he's keeping to himself.

Seeing Derek standing in the middle of the living room with blood all over his shirt is not that surprising. Before _The Big Werewolf Reveal_ maybe but since then there was a rise of people showing up uninvited at his apartment. The Sheriff has a perfectly nice house in the middle of town. They could have they pack meetings/pizza parties there. It's nearer to where they all live and he wouldn't have to listen to their high school problems.

“Hey.”

Unbelievable!

“I guess you lost your phone.”

“It's not charged.”

“Of course.” Too be fair, that's probably his fault. Since it is the only thing he didn't put it on the list to prepare. “Did the rest go like planned?”

“Actually yes.” Taking a seat on his couch – and probably getting blood all over it – Derek continues. “It was kinda unnerving. Usually it doesn't go so smoothly and something goes terribly wrong.”

Deep breaths. “But everything's done now?”

“Yes, the leaders are dealt with. Some of them are thinking about the proposition to stay as allies and the rest agreed to leave.”

His smug expression is answered with an eye-roll. And they thought he was crazy when he told them that most of the group would leave once the leaders were gone.

“Some of them invited me to leave with them.”

Oh... “Did they bribe you with cookies?”

“Yes. And with the promise of bonding over being wronged by hunters. Especially Kate.”

He is going to elaborate, right? The way Derek's head falls back and he closes his eyes is probably an indication that he's not.

“And you said?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to leave?”

“Your couch is too comfy.”

And just like that he has a sleeping werwolf on his couch. He would have liked a straight answer, but he knows the need to sleep. Especially when there is the constant possibility of an attack you have to take a nap whenever you can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. At least it's posted before season 4, which can't be said for the whole fic like it was planned.


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning he is once again alone in his apartment. The folded blanket on his couch and a glass in the sink are the only signs that he didn't imagine Derek coming over last night. The sleepover wasn't planned but they could have had breakfast together. He's sure there are a couple of things in his kitchen that could be used for a decent meal.

He was under the impression that everything would be normal now. Normal as it could be in a town crawling with supernatural things. Too be fair, Derek disappearing without explanation is probably kind of normal.

Later at work he has to pull out his best acting skills. Sally is complaining about a couple of calls last night. Apparently there was some kind of disturbance in the rundown part of town. Explosions and animal growling but nothing there when the patrol cars got there.

He really wonders what that was about... What did he tell them about keeping it low? He told them to keep it low! At least nobody actually saw. Unless someone took pictures and is keeping the information locked up until he has use for it. Blackmailing psychopath, why not? Everything is possible! It's been less than a month, but he learned not to question the possibility of things.

His suggestion that it were just kids prank calling was met with one of Sally's unimpressed looks. Luckily her shift ends shortly after he gets there and he just has to deal with keeping people away from the Sheriff's office where his boss is sleeping off the exhaustion of last night.

 

_sorry I had to leave_   
_Peter's being a dick again_

 

Okay... But if Derek has time to text him it can't be that important or dangerous. It's probably just Peter being his usual annoying self. His new project will definitely be figuring out why his presence is still tolerated.

 

_At least it's nothing unexpected._

_funny_

 

He feels stupid grinning down at his phone, but can't help it. It's easy talking to Derek, whether it is in person or through texting.

 

_See you later?_

_sure_   
_dinner_

 

It would be even easier if Derek learned the importance of proper punctuation. Any form of punctuation.

 

_Was that a question?_

_yes_

_Okay. I'll bring dessert._

_let's go out_   
_i'll pick you up_

 

Kicking Peter out of Beacon Hills will probably be on hold until he does something about his feelings for Derek. As nice as it is now, he needs to figure out if there could be more between them. Tonight he's going to do it. Or maybe during the current week.

“How is my favorite Deputy?”

The morning shifts are supposed to be the calm ones. With a heavy sigh he looks up from his desk. “Why aren't you in school, Stiles?”

“Free period.”

“I know that's not true.”

“You can't proof it.”

He really hopes that he wasn't as annoying as a teenager. Kudos to his parents if he was.

“I'm a cop. I'm sure I can find a way. Or I could just ask your father.”

Just like that his demeanor changes into something softer and concerned. “How is he?”, Stiles asks with a glance to the closed door.

“Fine, I guess. Napping.”

“Good.”

That can't be all. “You wanna go in?”

“We should let him sleep.” Turning his gaze away from the Sheriff's door he continues, “It was a long night. It was the first time he was actively involved in you-know-what.”

He's worried. Of course he is.

“You mean besides last year. When you were running around town being possessed by... that asian spirit?”

“A nogitsune. It's japanese.”

Sue him for getting confused. It's not like there was a consistency in the villains or even their mythology/origin.

“And that was different. He was trying to save me. This time he didn't have to get involved.”

“He's the Sheriff. A hostile takeover by a supernatural gang is not explicitly stated in the handbook, but it fits the job description to keep the town safe.”

Not to mention his tendency of getting involved in dangerous situation. Stiles should know that. Obviously it's part of the Stilinski gene pool.

“Still, he shouldn't have to deal with it.”

“Neither should you.” Nor any other person in the world, for that matter. “Listen, don't worry about him. Your father knows what he's doing. Helping you guys probably makes him feel better about his son being in constant danger. Let's be real, his most important job is being your dad.”

He's barely older than these kids and now he's playing therapists for one of them. Why doesn't he just leave the force to become a full-time high school counselor? Mom would love it. Until she found out that there are as many murders on school ground in Beacon Hills as in the line of duty.

“I'll just take care of him while he's taking care of me.”

Sure. Whatever. Let's go with that. Everything to get him out of here.

“Now leave, before he wakes up. I don't want to explain that I let you skip school.”

“Free period, dude.”

“Don't dude me.” You plan one thing to prevent the end of the town and suddenly you are part of their group of friends. “Go back to school.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Is this a date?”

Derek stops mid-sentence.

Apparently Peter thought it was a good idea to go behind everyone's back and become the new leader of the other group. Luckily they stayed true to their understanding from the night before and warned them about the backstabbing ass. No surprise there and right now he has other things on his mind. Like finding out if he's on a friendly outing or a romantic date.

“Sorry,” Derek's frown is unnerving so he turns his attention back to his half-eaten steak. “I made it weird. That wasn't my intention. Let's just forget I said anything.”

“It is.”

Yeah, it is better to ignore it. Let's just ignore that he's unable to keep his mouth shut. Now he probably lost his only friend in this town. The teenage wereanimals do not count as his friends. No matter what they tell themselves. He should have waited until the rest of the meal to blurt it out. A weird dinner stands between him and his apartment. His apartment in which he wants to curl up and hope this was all just a bad dream.

“I thought it was obvious.”

_Dammit! Keep it together!_

Only because he made it weird, doesn't mean that it has to stay weird. It's not the first time he has to spend time with an unrequited crush. First step to appear normal is not to zone out and listen.

“What did you say?”

“I said that I thought it was obvious. That this is a date.”

Oh. “Really?”

“I wasn't being exactly subtle about it. And you seemed interested.”

Great, now Derek looks mad. The scowl on his face says so at least. Probably. Who knows. Apparently Derek was flirting with him and he didn't realize. Between hiding his attraction for Derek, finding out about supernatural beings and planning the coup yesterday it must have slipped his attention.

“I am. Of course I am.” He hopes that it is his happy smile that softens Derek's face. “I wasn't sure, that's all.”

With a pointed look around the restaurant Derek asks, “Really? You weren't sure?”

Fair enough. They are in the nicest restaurant of Beacon Hills. Well, the nicest that is still open. There were some nicer ones that closed when the murder rate rose abruptly. There is even a candle on the table between them.

“Well, then I'm sure you're the one who's paying, right?”

“Don't count on it.”

The nudge of a foot against his leg is enough for him to find his appetite again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short chapter (sorry), but there should be a new one coming later today or tomorrow.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was too optimistic about posting this chapter. Sorry if someone was waiting for it to be posted yesterday.

The confirmation of a romantic intend was all that was needed to get the weirdness he caused out of the way. After that it was back to normal. It's not like they never shared a meal before. Even if usually they eat on a couch. In their sweatpants. Even the topics of conversation didn't change that much. They went back to discussing the level of creepiness in Peter's recent behavior. Derek's future now that the supernatural threat is gone. He's still a bit reluctant about making elaborate plans. Something about the next problem just waiting to happen.

“You could come work at the station.”

“So that you won't have to drive out to arrest me next time.”

“Don't be like that. It wasn't even that often. And I'm sure we wouldn't take our specialist for the supernatural into custody. The Sheriff would certainly love if someone else would take care of the stuff for him.”

“Specialist for the supernatural? You know that all that stuff is secret, right?”

“Please. By now half of Beacon Hills at least suspects that there are dark forces at work.”

“I don't know. Seeing your face at work everyday...”

“Is a great bonus you should be thankful for.”

What is new, is the kissing. And how great is this new development in their relationship. If it wouldn't disrupt the kiss he would pat himself on the back for taking the initiative. It just felt right to lean over and press his lips to Derek's when they got in the car to drive home at the end of the night. It just felt like the right moment. And it obviously was.

It's like high school, but better. Way better. For once his kissing technique improved over the last years and Derek also knows what he's doing. No slobbering all over each other. There's no gearshift lever between them like in the car he owned as a teen. And curfew is also a thing from the past. They are in no hurry to get home. If they wanted to, they could spend the whole night sitting here.

The parking lot of a restaurant is not the most romantic place. Or discreet for that matter. The longer they stay here the higher the risk that someone reports the car that's been parked there for a suspiciously long time. He could imagine the teasing of his coworkers if they are called out, because he's making out with Derek Hale. He could imagine it, if he weren't so distracted by Derek's lips, the scratch of his beard and the broad hand on the back of his neck. It's Sally's shift. She would take a look at Derek and understand. She would totally congratulate him on his good taste.

Somehow the chaste, close-mouthed kisses turned into something more heated. When they pull apart they are breathing heavily and he has a hand up Derek's shirt. It takes him a moment to realize why they stopped. His phone is ringing obnoxiously from the jacket he threw on the backseat.

It's equally good and annoying that whoever is on the other end of the line stopped them from going further.

“Just ignore it!”

“It could be important,” he says reaching for his jacket. “See, it's the Sheriff.”

He hopes he didn't butcher the greeting too much. It's difficult to concentrate on words while looking at a happily disheveled Derek.

“Sorry for calling you this late.”

“It's okay. Did something happen?”

The amusing tone in the voice of his boss is not as unnerving as his words. “I really don't want to keep you from your date, but I have something to ask you.”

Fucking Haigh. He's never going to tell him anything again. The guy obviously added some details to the conversation earlier today. All he said about his plans for tonight was that he was going out with a friend. Hell, he wasn't even sure if it was a date and then there is Haigh. Spreading rumors. Even though they turn out to be true.

“Do you happen to know where Derek is? We've been trying to call him, but nobody can reach him. And since you're friends.”

“He's right beside me.”

“Oh...” Apparently they didn't make that connection. Which is surprising since he only ever hangs out with Derek. Who else would he go out with? “That's great. I'm happy for you two.”

A moment he thinks the Sheriff hung up on him. Pushing back Derek's face from nuzzling his neck he breaks the silence. “You wanna talk to him?”

“No! Not necessary. Just tell him that Braeden wants to talk to him. She came back into town.”

Braeden? That woman Derek left with for a couple of days? He still doesn't know what that was about by the way. The vermin excuse can't be the truth. It's a another file he's gonna have to add to supernatural data base he started. Otherwise no one can keep track of it.

“Okay. I'll tell him.”

“Good. Have a good... uhm... I mean... see you tomorrow.”

He hasn't even completely lowered the phone when Derek is kissing him again. After letting himself indulge a little in the feeling of his lips against his own, he pulls back laughing.

“Oh, Mr Hale. I'm so glad to be given a chance as your secretary. Although I don't remember applying to it.”

“You haven't given me the message to call her yet. I should fire you to be honest. You're doing a very poor job.”

“Listening to private conversations, are we?”

“It was for me anyway,” is accompanied with an unapologetic shrug.

“Why didn't they call you in the first place?”

“I turned my phone off. Like one does when going on a date.”

He's never going to live it down probably. “Next time, you just tell the other person that it is a date. Then they can turn theirs off too.”

“Well, you should turn it off. The night's not over yet.”


	16. Chapter 16

“What is your guys fascination with this loft?”

At least this time it wasn't the noise that brought him here. Even the science-fiction writer, who he falsely took for a drug dealer asked if he could have a talk with the loud people that invade Derek's apartment all the time. As a man of the law and all, he could have a word with them.

Imagine my surprise to see the lights on. Although Derek's not even in town right now.”

Figures that Derek was right to be skeptical about finding a steady job anytime soon and about having a couple of normal, calm weeeks. The last case wasn't even solved for 24 hours when Braeden came asking for assistance. It turned out that the minor vermin problem was a major one. Something about a horde... a nest... well, a bunch of wendigos a couple of towns over. It's just his kind of luck to start dating someone who has to leave town the following day. Derek couldn't even tell him when he might be back.

Stiles speaks up from his place in the circle. “He asked us to house-sit while he's gone.” Unsurprisingly it's a lie.

“I'm pretty sure I'm the only one with a key here.” By the way, where's the plant he's supposed to take care of? He should take that sad looking thing downstairs. It can bond with Dorian about being neglected by him. “Try again. How about the truth?”

“We're trying to get to know each other. These are the ones that decided to stay in Beacon Hills,” Scott says gesturing around the room. Well, that explains the new faces at least.

While 80% of what comes out of Stiles' mouth is a lie or a a sarcastic remark, Scott seems incapable of speaking the untruth. Maybe that's a requirement for being a true Alpha. Not that Deaton is very forthcoming with sharing his knowledge on that topic. It's not his fault that he finds it suspiciously convenient that the one person with the potential of becoming a special alpha was the employee of Beacon Hills' sketchy Rupert Giles even before he was bitten by a werewolf.

“And there was no other place to sit around in a circle to share your life stories?” Is that a talking stick in Kira's hands? “What about a campfire in the woods? It's not like you have to be afraid of being attacked by a wild animal.”

Some pleading and promises to not break anything he relents. “But next time you ask before you invade someones home.”

He takes the plant that looks healthier after being alone for some days than all the time Derek has been fussing over it. At the door he addresses the newbie he already met twice. “I hope you fixed your backlight. The next deputy to stop you because of it, won't be so forgiving about taking a shot to the gut.”

That's not how he imagined his life in his twenties. Being the responsible adult for teenager in a town with supernatural creatures.

_Loving the talking circle in your apt._

_do i wanna know_

_Probably not!_  
 _How's it going?_

_slow_

_Any idea when you'll be back?_

That's not too clingy, is it? It's a normal question. He's just wondering.

_next week_  
 _maybe_  
 _hope so_

He's glad that he's not the only one hopes for a quick return of his... boyfriend?

_miss you_

_Miss you too._  
 _Be safe._

His life is not what he imagined. He at least would have never thought that he would be dating a werewolf. But he wouldn't change it. For all the problems that are surely still to come, he's happier than he's been in a long time.

_feed the fish_

And Dorian is happy too. Finally there is a person in his life that knows that he can't life solely off on love and sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it!
> 
> Thanks to all that left comment, kudos and bookmarked and of course all the silent readers that went long on this ride. I hope you enjoyed my little writing attempt.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr: [insertfandomname](http://insertfandomname.tumblr.com/)


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